


Untitled

by melloniel



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-20
Updated: 2007-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:04:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melloniel/pseuds/melloniel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>700 words of unbetaed randomness before they started back at Scranton. Because they could have been happy, dammit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

The whole damn thing felt like some kind of romantic comedy come to life, right before the starcrossed couple went through a potentially huge roadblock only to get together again. Except this wasn't the movies, Jim's snoring had actually woken her up, and Karen had just burned her hand on the one pan he owned before she gave up on making scrambled eggs and put some poptarts in the toaster instead.

Everyone had told Karen she was insane; she should have stayed in Connecticut, found another job, moved to New York and worked for corporate. But no, she'd followed Jim Halpert to Scranton, Pennsylvania, a town proud about its coal. One person had already quit, the only person she knew was Jim, and her new boss was insane.

"Your poptarts are burning," Jim's sleepy voice came from the doorway, and Karen jumped. She cursed under her breath when she realized they were stuck in the damn toaster, and how lame was it that she could beat Final Fantasy after three marathon weekends but would probably burn the place down if she tried to cook?

"Your toaster is defective," she answered back, frowning as she unplugged it before they could actually start smoking. The corners were already black, and she'd have to fish a knife out of one of the boxes in the corner to pry them out.

"Is not." And this time when Karen jumped it was from Jim's hands on her waist, his voice floating over the top of her head. How freakishly tall was he, anyway?

Turning and undoubtedly smiling stupidly, Karen tiptoed to press a kiss to Jim's collarbone, which was about as far as she could reach when he wasn't bending down to help out. He was mostly just blinking at his defective toaster sleepily, hair half sticking up and skin still sleep warm where Karen's arms snaked around his waist and under his shirt.

When he did finally turn his attention to her, he frowned a bit before the corners of his mouth lifted up. "You're wearing my shirt." It was one of those things that made Karen want to kiss him (it was a long, long list), so she tugged at Jim's shirt until he got the picture.

Kissing Jim was nicer than Karen had thought it might be, and she'd been lying through her teeth when the camera guys had asked her how she felt about him. Kinda into him? Yeah, right.

She wasn't just kinda into Jim, not when she was making out with him in his empty kitchen after a night of Welcome to Scranton sex, not with the way his hands felt huge and warm on her bare thighs as he helped prop her up on the counter, and definitely not with the way she could feel him growing hard through the thin cotton of his boxers.

Karen wasn't sure when Jim started chuckling against her mouth or why, and she pulled away, tugging her hand from his boxers at the same time. "What?"

"Nothing," Jim said, shaking his head. He wasn't laughing anymore but he was smiling happily, and Karen realized this was what all those stupid chick movies were about. If she could be the reason Jim smiled like that for a long, long time, she got it.

"I've just never had sex in a kitchen before," he continued earnestly, and Karen let out a laugh herself before shoving his shoulder.

"And you're not going to," she said, squirming on the counter slightly. "We've got a lot more sex in a bed to have before we get adventurous."

"A lot more, huh?" Jim's smile dropped a little before picking up again, and Karen barely had time to wonder what that was about before he'd picked her up off the counter and she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist before she fell. Bruises on her ass, even sex related, were no fun when she had to sit on it for eight hours a day. "Let's get to it before you burn my kitchen down, then."

"I'm not an arsonist," Karen protested between her laughter and doing everything she could to distract Jim on the walk (more like stagger) back to the bedroom. If this really was like one of those romantic comedies, Karen just wanted the happiest part, this part, to last as long as it could.


End file.
